


Call Me Koutarou

by kazzydolyn



Series: bokuaka canonverse [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BOKUAKA CANON, BokuAka Week, BokuAka Week 2020, Canon Compliant, Dating, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, They're In Love Your Honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazzydolyn/pseuds/kazzydolyn
Summary: The first time is by request.“I want you to call me Koutarou.”“Hm?” Akaashi says, turning abruptly to look at him. It’s a warm weekend in June, just shy of their 100 day anniversary. They’re sitting on the couch in Koutarou’s college apartment, relaxing for a bit until their dinner reservation.“You keep calling me Bokuto-san. But we’redatingnow. We should use first names!”Akaashi’s lips press together in a straight line, and Koutarou knows exactly what’s coming. But he’s ready for it. He thought about it all week; he has his talking points all planned out. That’s the only way to win arguments with Akaashi, and hereallywants to win this one.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: bokuaka canonverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869274
Comments: 26
Kudos: 842
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	Call Me Koutarou

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BOKUAKA WEEK EVERYONE!!!
> 
> Here’s my first contribution, going off the prompt of FIRSTS!
> 
> I wanted to incorporate this prompt in a couple of ways, so this piece starts with the first time Akaashi and Bokuto address each other by their first names, then goes on to chronicle further first name usage over their first year together.
> 
> This is also vaguely inspired by my other fic [SAY YES](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25311826?view_full_work=true). In that one there’s a line about how over the course of a year, Akaashi’s Bokuto-sans are gradually replaced with Koutarous. SO. That’s basically what this fic is! ENJOY! <3

The first time is by request.

“I want you to call me Koutarou.”

“Hm?” Akaashi says, turning abruptly to look at him. It’s a warm weekend in June, just shy of their 100 day anniversary. They’re sitting on the couch in Koutarou’s college apartment, relaxing for a bit until their dinner reservation.

“You keep calling me Bokuto-san. But we’re _dating_ now. We should use first names!”

Akaashi’s lips press together in a straight line, and Koutarou knows exactly what’s coming. But he’s ready for it. He thought about it all week; he has his talking points all planned out. That’s the only way to win arguments with Akaashi, and he _really_ wants to win this one.

“You are older than me. It would be impolite to do that.”

“I’m also your boyfriend!” Koutarou argues. “That’s more important! And it’s not impolite if I’m _asking_ you to do it. Actually, it’d be impolite _not_ to do it!”

Akaashi sighs. “It would be unwise to address you so casually in front of others,” he says carefully. “It would reveal too much about the nature of our relationship.”

Koutarou smiles now, because he knows he’s won, and Akaashi frowns, because he’s realized the same.

“So when we’re alone, then,” Koutarou says with an eager grin. “When it’s just us. There’s no reason not to.”

“I—suppose so,” Akaashi gives in haltingly.

“You’ll call me Koutarou?” After a moment Akaashi jerks his head in a short nod. “And I can call you Keiji?”

“Only when we’re alone,” Akaashi stresses.

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Koutarou says, smile stretching wide. Then he nudges Akaashi with his elbow. “Hey, Keiji?”

“Yes?” His cheeks are turning a pretty shade of pink. It’s a really good look on him.

“Say it for me?”

With his blunt honesty and quiet confidence, Akaashi has never been the type to shy away or back down, even when he’s nervous, even when he’s blushing. So he looks up, meets Koutarou’s eyes straight on and says in his low, steady voice, “If you’d like, Koutarou.”

Koutarou can only respond by wrapping a hand around the back of Akaashi’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asks through a dopey grin when they break apart.

Akaashi stands up from the couch and turns away, ears tinged red. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”

It takes some time for Akaashi to get used to it. Saying _Bokuto-san_ is an enduring habit that Koutarou very much wants him to break. So he helps the best way he can: by correcting or ignoring his boyfriend, depending on the situation.

When Koutarou brings him tea and Akaashi absently says, “Thank you, Bokuto-san.” He replies with a firm _Koutarou_ and holds the tea hostage until Akaashi says, “Thank you, Koutarou.”

When Akaashi tries to get his attention by calling out _Bokuto-san_ , Koutarou’s ears have suddenly stopped working. It’s only after Akaashi sighs and says _Koutarou_ that his hearing is miraculously restored. He turns, instantly attentive and smiling brightly. “Yes, Keiji?”

It happens unprompted when they’re having sex for the first time.

It’s not the first time they’ve been intimate, naked together in Koutarou’s bed. They’ve done everything else. They’ve done everything else _a lot_.

But _this_.

This is something new.

Akaashi is beneath him, dark eyes shining bright in the sliver of moonlight that slips in through the window. Koutarou wants to memorize everything about this moment—the line of his jaw, the heat of his pale skin, the way his long fingers press into Koutarou’s thighs. Akaashi lets out a soft moan, closing his eyes, tipping his head back into the pillow. And then, in a breathless whimper, he says, “ _Koutarou_.”

And Koutarou comes. He leans forward to bury his face in his boyfriend’s neck, lips moving against sweat-slicked skin as he murmurs _Keiji Keiji Keiji_.

Things are different after that, in all sorts of good ways. It’s much easier for their first names to fall from their lips, like a secret shared just between them. Instead of hellos and goodbyes they exchange soft whispers of _Keiji_ and _Koutarou_.

Keiji gets bolder about saying Koutarou’s name, which is a little dangerous and a lot exciting.

During one of his weekend visits, Koutarou drags him to a party a classmate is throwing. It’s not exactly Keiji’s scene, but he’s a good boyfriend, so he doesn’t complain much, even when Koutarou’s attention keeps getting pulled in different directions by friends and drinks and games.

It’s a couple hours into the party and Koutarou is the current leader of the night’s arm wrestling competition. But he’s starting to get distracted by the way Keiji is _looking_ at him. Not like he’s annoyed or even bored, which Koutarou kind of expected at this point. No, it’s more like he’s… planning something, with calculated looks and a hungry half-smile.

In between matches, Koutarou checks on him. “Didja see me win that last one?” he asks, flexing a little to show off. “I did good, right?”

“Yes,” Keiji says, his voice mild as his eyes linger on Koutarou’s arms. “Very impressive.”

Koutarou grins. “Are you having fun too, ‘Kaashi?”

Keiji hums, vaguely affirmative. Then he leans in, his breath hot against Koutarou’s ear as he whispers, “Though I’ll be having more fun once we return to your apartment, Koutarou.”

Oh.

Someone else ends up claiming the title of arm wrestling champion that night. Probably. Koutarou doesn’t stick around to find out.

Later, tangled in the sheets of his bed with Keiji sleeping pressed against his side, he briefly considers the consequences of using first names only in private, because now all it takes is a whispered _Koutarou_ in a crowded room for him to urgently, _desperately_ need to get Keiji alone.

He’s maybe a little fucked.

(Not in that way.)

(Well, not _only_ in that way.)

Even though it happens often now, every time still feels like a blessing.

Until it doesn’t.

It’s an unseasonably warm day in October and the current captain of Fukuroudani has arranged a practice match against last year’s alumni, because his Keiji is nothing if not proactive. Even if it did take an awful lot of schedule negotiations to ensure that Konoha, Sarukui, Komi, Washio and Koutarou could all be in attendance.

The first game reunites last year’s starting line-up. Keiji and Onaga join the alumni on one side of the net with the fresh crop of first and second years on the other side.

It’s a massacre.

At first Koutarou was a little worried he would accidentally call out _Keiji_ here, in front of everyone. But on the court it’s easy to fall back into old habits, it’s easy to fly up into the air with a cry of _AGHAAAASHEEE!!!_

And _god_ Koutarou missed playing with him. Despite the fact that they haven’t been practicing together, they’ve never been more in sync.

After the brutal first game, Keiji wants to even things out, so he and Koutarou end up on opposite sides of the net for the second game. Koutarou’s team maintains a lead in the beginning, but by the end of the first set they find themselves at a deuce. The rotation brings Keiji and Koutarou face to face, right in the center of the court. They lock eyes through the net, unspoken challenges electrifying the air between them.

The whistle blows; a first year on Keiji’s team prepares to serve.

“Are you going to try to spike in-bounds this time?” Keiji asks with a wry smile.

“Hey! Don’t you try to distract me, ‘Kaashi!”

Keiji lowers his voice, a soft murmur. “But it’s so _easy_ , Koutarou.”

Koutarou’s brain glitches and he freezes for a second— _just a second!_ —but it’s a second too long. And when he starts to move again, quickly _quickly_ in an attempt to catch up, he trips over his own feet and slides against the gym floor as the ball hits the court beside him. He groans, more embarrassed than in pain. As soon as Keiji realizes that Koutarou isn’t actually hurt, his face shifts from concern to something smug, something dangerous.

And that’s when Koutarou finally accepts that Keiji using his first name isn’t only a blessing. It’s also a goddamn weapon.

Konoha holds out a hand and helps Koutarou to his feet. “Was Akaashi taunting you just now? Don’t fall for his trash talk!” When Koutarou is too dazed to respond right away, Konoha’s brows crease together. “Uh, you okay, man? What the hell did he say?”

“N-nothing! I’m fine! Super fine!”

Konoha looks at him for a few seconds then lets out a long sigh. “He always did know just how to get to you…”

_You have no idea_ , Koutarou thinks as he gets back into position. Through the net, Keiji gives him another dangerous smirk. Koutarou shakes his head; he’s in love with a _demon_.

The first time it happens in public it’s an accident.

Koutarou has already slipped up a lot in this regard. Keiji’s name just tumbles out of his lips too easily! Most of the time it’s in front of strangers—the cashier at the sports store, the barista at the coffee shop, a handful of pedestrians outside the train station—so it hasn’t been that big of a deal. But a few times he’s slipped up in front of friends and acquaintances, which definitely earned them a few questioning looks and discerning eyebrows lifted in something just shy of surprise. Koutarou splutters clumsy excuses; Keiji mildly supplies better excuses. It’s not _that_ suspicious, though—Bokuto address plenty of people casually, so it’s never resulted in a real problem.

Fortunately when Keiji finally slips up it’s only in front of Kuroo and Kenma, and those two have known about their relationship from the beginning. The four of them are eating greasy cheesy pizza, blissfully tired after playing some two-on-two volleyball at the park (Kenma’s participation being Kuroo’s birthday gift this year.)

When Kuroo orders a third beer despite having an exam early the next morning, Kenma says nothing, but briefly glances up from his PSP with a judgmental look that speaks volumes.

“I’ll be fine, kitten,” Kuroo replies to the other boy’s silent scolding. “Don’t worry. I’m still gonna ace this final, ‘cause I’m the best!”

“Careful, Kuroo-san. You’re starting to sound like Koutarou,” Keiji says through a fond smile—a smile that falters a second later when he realizes what he’s done.

Kuroo’s lips are already twisting into a gleeful smirk. “Ohoho? Koutarou, huh?”

“ _Kuroo-san_ …” Keiji says, and the threat in his voice would probably carry a lot more weight if his face wasn’t turning pink.

“You know, I kinda always wondered if you were calling him Bokuto-san in the bedroom. Guess not.”

“Bro!” Koutarou interjects as his cheeks start to warm as well.

Keiji groans and buries his face in his hands, grumbling through his fingers, “Please shut up, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo just throws his head back and cackles until Kenma jabs an elbow into his stomach. Then he wheezes, and cackles harder.

The next time it happens in public, it’s intentional. It’s Keiji once again wielding the name like a knife, only this time the blade is pointed at someone else.

It’s early February, and Koutarou has dragged Keiji to another party, this one a post-game celebration after his university team claims yet another victory. At this point Keiji has been to enough games and parties that he’s friendly with most of Koutarou’s team, so he doesn’t have to spend the night glued to Koutarou’s side. But when a tall blonde girl corners Koutarou and starts aggressively flirting, he finds himself wishing Keiji were there to help him escape.

“Bokuto-kun!” she greets, moving into his space. He vaguely recognizes her from one of his classes, but he doesn’t remember her name. “You looked so cool on the court today!”

“Hey hey, thanks! It was a good game!”

“Your last spike was amazing! You’re _really_ strong,” she compliments, slyly reaching out to run her hand along his arm.

“Yeah, well!” Koutarou says awkwardly, taking a small step back so she’s not touching him anymore. “I work out a lot.”

“I can tell,” she says, biting her lip and smiling up at him through her eyelashes.

There’s a blur of movement as someone else approaches them, and then Keiji is standing beside him. His hand wraps around Koutarou’s elbow, long fingers settling on the crook of his arm. To an outsider it probably looks like a casual friendly touch. But Akaashi Keiji doesn’t _do_ casual friendly touches, so to Koutarou it comes off as wildly affectionate and more than a little possessive. His skin heats at the contact and he wants to lean into it, wants to touch him back, but they’re in the middle of a crowded room, so he doesn’t.

“We should go now, Koutarou,” Keiji says sharply, not taking his eyes off the woman. He gives her an abrupt nod and a polite yet cold, “If you’ll excuse us.”

Then he releases Koutarou’s arm and walks away, and Koutarou stares after him for half a second before scrambling to follow.

The night is frigid, the street lined with slush from yesterday’s brief snowfall. Their breath fogs the air in front of them as they walk the short distance back to Koutarou’s apartment. Keiji is quiet, and at first Koutarou worries that he’s mad. But he’s still standing close to Koutarou, letting their shoulders bump together. So maybe he’s not mad, maybe he’s…

“Were you _jealous_?” Koutarou asks, a lilting tease in his voice.

“Yes,” Keiji answers immediately, and any amusement Koutarou found in the situation instantly evaporates.

“Oh. Huh.” Koutarou should probably stop being surprised by his boyfriend’s straightforwardness. “Did we have to leave so soon though?”

Keiji sighs, deflates a little. “No, I suppose we didn’t.” He sends Koutarou a sideways glance. “I apologize. I… may have overreacted a bit.”

“But why? You know I would never—”

“I know. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Kou. It’s just…” he sighs. “It’s endlessly frustrating that I am unable to claim you in public. So I wanted to take you home, where you are mine.”

Between his candid words and the way he calls Koutarou’s apartment _home_ —it sends a shiver of wanting up Koutarou’s spine. He has to internally talk himself down from doing something reckless like grabbing Keiji and kissing him right there in the middle of the street.

“In public, too,” Koutarou says after a moment, and Keiji glances at him again, a question in his eyes. “I’m yours in public too, even if we can’t show it. I’m yours everywhere, Keiji.”

A ghost of a smile graces Keiji’s lips, the last of the tension easing from his shoulders. Between them, their hands touch, knuckles brushing. Keiji links their pinkies together, because the night is dark and the street is empty and it’s safe enough to do this much.

Keiji’s voice is quiet, a confession just for him. “And I am yours, Koutarou.”

Koutarou is supposed to be waking up in Fukuoka, but instead he wakes up on a train. He’s still sore from yesterday’s game, and sleeping propped up against the window of the shinkansen didn’t exactly help, but he wanted to get back to Tokyo as soon as possible.

Keiji’s not expecting him until much later, but Koutarou booked an earlier ticket to surprise him. Despite having a game 700 miles away the night before, he _really_ didn’t want to miss Keiji’s graduation.

He sprints the familiar path to Fukuroudani Academy, duffle bag bouncing against his hip as he runs. The ceremony has already started when he arrives, but he manages to slip into the back of the auditorium just in time to hear Akaashi Keiji called up to collect his diploma. In the shadows of the back of the room, Koutarou beams with pride and claps as loud as he can so Keiji is sure to hear it.

He has big plans for tomorrow, the official date of their first anniversary. They haven’t seen each other in nearly three weeks due to Keiji’s finals and Koutarou’s practice games, and he can’t wait to catch his boyfriend up on all the exciting things that have happened, especially last night’s victory and the recruiter who expressed interest in offering Koutarou a contract. The man is supposed to contact Koutarou this weekend with the details, and a few days after that Keiji is coming to stay at his apartment for a full seven days.

It’s going to be the best week of Koutarou’s life, following a year of best weeks, with another year of best weeks stretching out ahead of them.

He’s so goddamn _lucky_.

After the ceremony, the graduating students and their families mill about campus, chatting and taking photos. Koutarou doesn’t want to interrupt yet, so he leans against one of the sakura trees, smiling as he watches his boyfriend receive various greetings and congratulations. Then, almost as if he can feel Koutarou’s gaze, Keiji suddenly turns to look right at him. Their eyes lock, and surprise lights up Keiji’s face.

And all Koutarou can do is grin as his name falls from Keiji’s lips—immediately, easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

_“Koutarou!”_

**Author's Note:**

> gosh i love bokuaka so much!!!
> 
> i have at least one more piece planned for bokuaka week—it’ll probably go up on the last day for the FREE prompt because i’m using two of my favorite tropes/themes that aren’t on the prompt list SO STAY TUNED FOR THAT! XD
> 
> thanks for reading!! kudos, comments, and shares are greatly appreciated <3
> 
> follow me on twitter maybe - [@kazdolyn](http://www.twitter.com/kazdolyn)


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